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User blog:The Real KYR SP33DY/Hell Hath No Fury like a Woman Scorn
Splish That's all she heard. Splash What was that noise? Dink Was she dreaming? Welcome Home That voice Wake up She knew what it was Wake up It was a mirage Wake up She needed to open her eyes Mephisto Natasha woke in a broken-out sweat, clutching her chest, taking deep breaths. She was in her chambers and she looked over at the empty space. A single tear streamed down her face and her heart started to ache. "Sweet Nyssa... I will find you, my darling. My blood." She crept out of the bed and strolled over to the mirror on the wall. She looked at herself, her hair a soft shade of blonde, shorter than it ever has been. She stifled up a gasp of dispair and looked down at the cuts and bruises on her body, mementos of conflict and torture. She looked back up at the mirror. Odd. That's what she always thought she was. Different. Hated. Killer. Destruction. She never wanted to be normal. The Red Room had changed her. The Cold War had changed her. Love had changed her. '' She slowly sulked back to her bed and laid down, closing her eyes once again. ''Elsewhere "Goddamnit!" screamed Opheila, as she pounds the table in front of her. her advisors quickly scramble to assess the situation. "We were this close to claiming that filthy assassin, I smell a broken deal," she said to herself as she walked sultry to her office, constantly muttering to herself. She slam the doors behind her, approaching the desk in front and kicking it into the wall. A hot feeling filled the room. "Mephisto, you have some nerve showing your face here," Ophelia growled, turning to face the demonic being. "Madame ''HYDRA, ''that title bothers me wholesome, child. Didn't your mother ever tell to not make deals with demons?" Mephisto calmly asked. "We had a deal! We get you the Bride, you give us the Assassin. Her body is not here, like it was promised! So do you mind telling me where she is?" Ophelia barked back, clenching her fist. "Be careful with your words, child. I lust over to claim your blacken soul," Mephisto smirked. He was clearly amused by this. "We wouldn't want to get ''her ''involved, would we?" Sarkissian sighed and retreated backwards to her chair. "Of course not," a small but soft smile pierced her green lips. "the last time we met," she chuckled, "I couldn't stop screaming." "Ms. Sarkissian, I do not wish to delve into what you call fun in her private quarters, I do want to let you know that the Bride will still be in my possession. If you want the Assassin, you're gonna have to squander the League," Mephisto grinned and disappeared in a cloud of red mist, followed by a fire ring. Ophelia looked at the floor and picked up a picture that was cracked, one of her and Hela, the Goddess of Death. Their hands locked into a loving embrace, the fire between them was enough to spark the light in her eye. She looked at the ring on her finger, embroiled and inscribed was Hela's name. She took one more deep look at it and grinned happily. "Hela, oh sweet bringer of death and apocalypse, drag me to Hel and make me yours," She took the blood of her own mother and smeered it over her face, before hands pulled her down under, laughing manically. Category:Blog posts